


Cave Talks

by Anonymous



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: (I suck at summaries), Cloacal Sex, Death in the Family, F/M, Jason Todd is Batman, Kinda, M/M, and stuff, bruce dies, mentioned egg preg, wing fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-19 21:58:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14881961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Bruce Wayne dies in Ethiopia and sometimes Jason thinks he died too. Good thing Slade reminds him otherwiseThe first part is world building and my attempt at angst.





	Cave Talks

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic. So yeah um enjoy. 
> 
> It's from an Au I'm hoping to try to write. Where Bruce dies saving Jason in Ethiopia and Jason goes on to become the second Batman.

“It’s been three years old man. three fucking years.” Jason stared across at the suit. Not the one B died in no, but the spare. It looked the same as it had when Alfred had hung it in a case beside Dick’s old robin and discowing uniforms two and a half years ago back when Jason was still wheeling around upstairs, waiting for the new elevator to get put in.

If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine the Bat in front of him, asking about his day or school or his latest visit to Dick-face and his team of super friends. Could almost smell the thick musky scent the swelled up every time B took off the scent blockers. 

Or scowling at him spare bat suit and cave covered in glitter from the volcano Dick helped him do for a school project. They’d never gotten the glitter out fully, it still clung in the crevices of the old spare suit like the paparazzi to a window.

“Dicks fine, ya know for dickhead. He’s still getting married. Gonna have lots of green glowy space babies.” B would have had a cow. Dick his first little bird all grown up and nesting. He’d have been insufferable.

“You should fucking be here B their so lovey dovey now it’s making me sick.” He should be here. He should have had to watch Dickie be a sap, wrapping his arms around his fiancé, His new blue and black suit contrasting against her orange skin. B should have had to sit there while Dick freaked out during the fitting for his wedding suit, blue feathers fluffed and twitching. He should have been forced to suffer all the awkward first meetings with Dickie’s fiancé. Like Jason did.

He should have watched Jason punch the fuck out of mirage. He should have been there to wrap his wings around Dick when he realized what Mirage did. Should have been the one to scream at kori when she claimed Dick cheated, that he “should have known”. Should watched Dick break as Kori left and the titans tiptoed around him for weeks afterward.

Should of been the one to hunt Kori down and talk to her. Try to make her listen to reason. Should have been there to talk Jason and Tim out of making a deal with Clayface, to prove a goddamn point. Not the best idea in retrospect, even if it worked.

It wasn’t fucking fair. 

Jason shifted his prosthetic foot clanking against the medal floor beneath him. He dragged in a deep breath of the humid cave air before plowing on. If he stopped now he’d never finish this time.

It had become a routine at some point to walk or, in the earlier days of his recovery, wheel over to the suit and just talk to it. Report to it like it was Bruce and tell it everything he’d never get the chance to tell his father. Some days it even helped.

“Robin 3's opening his own branch of Titian’s in San-Francisco.” Which was good, Tim did good. It wasn’t like Jason felt abandoned or anything. He’d still see the kid. Tim would still come to Gotham to help out. Like Dick did, just he would have his own city now, his own team, his own priorities and they just didn’t include Jason anymore. 

“Robin four’s sticking around for a while.” Stephanie, brave, headstrong and stubborn to a fucking fault. She reminded him of B in a way, once she got her teeth into something she wouldn’t stop. Didn’t listen when he told her to get out of this hero bullshit before she ended up like him. Down a father and a leg and too fucked up to stop.  

“Alfie’s not really changed, still a badass.” He wishes he could forget how Al was in B’s room again standing there clutching an old pair of socks, he’d found buried in the laundry. B always did have huge elephant feet.

“Wintergreen’s visiting again.” And Slade. Slade’s visiting too. He wonders not for the first time what B would think. Of him, of his choices, and that fact that Slade still comes by despite no longer being his teacher. Of that fact that his son is sleeping with a one eyed morally dubious killer, that’s at least twice his age.  Ya know small things like that.

                    

* * *

 

Slade hadn’t been surprised when he’d come in, When Jay had tugged him down and kissed him like he was drowning. Hands tangling in his hair.  Tension obvious in the tightness of the brat’s shoulders, wings slightly fluffed with nerves.

  Slade smirked at the the choked ‘shit’ that tumbled from Jason's mouth as Slade’s lips latched onto his neck sucking lightly.

  Jason felt so small in Slade’s hold. Slade knew the chickling was strong, with nice thick thighs and large broad shoulders. Paired with a toned tapered waist and breeding hips that were the envy of many a winged across Gotham.  More than a few ‘reporters’ had called his brat a walking wet dream, scars, prostatic and all. Still the kid hadn’t been small in a long time. Not since before he’d contacted Slade to train him.

  Slade continued, kissing farther up Jason’s neck. His trail reaching the scent gland, he stopped sucking and rubbed his nose against it, taking long, deep breaths. Slade felt Jason’s body relax, instinctively pleased by the apparent attraction to his scent.

He’d have to get his little bird a collar or perhaps some panties. Shear lace or if Jason could be persuaded they’d have a little romp in his boy’s new batsuit. Ass up, dyed black wings trembling, slit spread open on the roof, bottom half of the batsuit down around the knees, trapping the brats long, toned legs. Not that Jason would ever agree to anything that could tarnish the Bat name.

Jason moaned as Slade’s tongue worked the scent gland sliding over the sensitive skin, hand in his hair holding him still. Wings giving a soft beat against the cave wall. Slade hummed forcing his golden wings up to trap the heavy dyed black wings against the wall. He much preferred the boys natural brown color, the stark black that never seemed to suit the kid. Too dark.

 He shoved his knee between Jason’s legs forcing them apart to rub against the damp front of his pants. Jason’s slit hadn’t spread yet, his cock was still trapped in the wet cloaca passage. Maybe it should stay that way for a bit.

Slade dropped to his knees wings releasing Jason’s and sinking to the floor as he tugged down the gray suit pants. Jason lifted his feet allowing Slade to tug them off completely, to toss over his shoulders. He forced the boys leg over his shoulder to come face to face with the cloaca opening. Because of course the brat wouldn’t wear underwear. Slade brought his hands up to hold the slit together with his thumbs, tongue sliding over the opening. Tongue dipping in to lap teasingly through thick cloacal fluid to find the and tease over the slit of Jason’s cock head. The wet juices dripped past his mouth onto his chin.

“Slade, Slade, please fuck. Please, I c-can't...” Jason’s thighs trembled across his shoulder, words barely comprehensible. The black wings cocooned around them were shaking with need. As Slade refused to let Jason's cock slide free. Slade licked up the slit. Smirking again at the brats incomprehensible pleas.

Slade could feel the trembling through his hands, still holding the slit closed and pinning hips to wall. Jason was proving to be something of a moaner, and listening to the Bat brat beg for more while eating him out was darkly satisfying. He wondered if he tied the boy down how many times he could force to boy to cum in his own cloaca? To break him down and wring out every drop of cum. Something for another day perhaps.

Slade sought out the places that had been creating particularly exciting noises, and as Jason’s’ orgasm approached he slid his tongue rapid-fire into the slit just below the ridge of the cock head, pistoning it into the spot mercilessly. As the intense sensations tipped the Jason over the edge he keened, hands clinging to Slade's hair almost painfully, hips trying and failing to thrash under Slade’s unrelenting grip.

Biology and dick thoroughly confused, the brats orgasm lasted ages, and he spent the trip back down shivering under Slade’s hands with the aftershocks. Slade chuckled thumbs easing off to let Jason’s slit finally spread freeing the confused, still hard, cum covered cock. Slade teases a long, satisfied moan out with firm lick from root to head, before changing tactics, licking cum off the over sensitive shaft.

Slade stood up and dragged the boy against him, hand gripping the back of Jason’s neck in a fierce kiss, biting down on his lip so hard that Slade could taste blood. Jason’s plump lips opened with a gasp and Slade used the opportunity to shove his cum covered tongue into it. Sharing the cum into Jason’s mouth. This kiss is far from gentle; full of teeth and tongues and it ends with Jason’s body crushed to Slade’s chest and his back arched against the cave wall under the demand of Slade’s lips. When he pulls back, Jason is staring at him, cum dripping from his mouth, one hand tangled in Slade ’s gray hair, the other wound into Slade’s loose wife beater. Looking absolutely wreaked.

Slade’s cock was already free, sitting slick and ready in his sweats. He couldn’t wait to fuck this boy, breed him. Even if it was only instinct. Spring was a time for sex. For finding a mate and fighting it out pinning the weaker winged to the ground, filling their cloaca with cum until they’re round with an egg.

  
  


 


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